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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721707">Eight on Friday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway'>crochetaway</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:07:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy works hard, both in her job at the Ministry of Magic, and against her growing feelings for a Gryffindor that she should absolutely not go on a date with.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cormac McLaggen/Pansy Parkinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Somewhere in the World Fest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eight on Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandora_rose_xo/pseuds/pandora_rose_xo">pandora_rose_xo</a>  in the  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Somewhere_in_the_World">Somewhere_in_the_World</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>British Ministry of Magic</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pansy’s heels clicked loudly through the mostly empty Ministry corridors. She couldn’t quite believe she had ended up in the Ministry of all places after Hogwarts, but it turned out she was quite good at organizing things. And after the disaster that was the second wizarding war, lots of things needed organizing, particularly in the Ministry. Her position was essentially floater to whichever department the Minister needed her. It made for some <em>interesting</em> colleagues. </p><p>She was currently working in the Magical Sports and Games department, which, if she had been given a choice, she wouldn’t have ever touched with a ten-foot pool. But, Shacklebolt was quite insistent that this department was given priority so that the national Quidditch teams could be started back up as soon as possible. They brought in too much revenue to be ignored for much longer. </p><p>That’s how Pansy found herself working at the Ministry at ten in the evening on a Tuesday. The building was practically empty, except for the cleaning staff, Pansy, and a few other workers who had no social life. At least Pansy was assured that <em>she</em> had a social life. Unlike that swot, Granger up in Magical Law Enforcement. Pansy had seen her at the Ministry at all hours of the night. Some days, she was quite sure the other witch must sleep in her office. </p><p>With a sigh, she settled back into her temporary desk to go over the league’s schedule once more. She was sure it was perfect, but she had to present to Shacklebolt and the league owners in the morning, so she wanted to be double sure she didn’t forget anything. The faster the Quidditch season started—hopefully with no hiccoughs—the faster she could get out of this damned department and get into one that was more interesting with less boarish coworkers. </p><p>The door to her department slammed shut, scaring Pansy half to death. She muttered under her breath as she leaned back in her chair, trying to catch her breath. Likely it was Leonard who cleaned floors. She took a glance at her watch and frowned. It was now closer to midnight. She needed to get home if she was going to be awake enough for her early meeting the next morning.</p><p>With a tap of her wand, she cleaned up her desk, her files organizing themselves with a spell she had created herself. She gathered her handbag and stood to leave when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.</p><p>With a quick twist, she turned and had her wand in Cormac McLaggen’s throat in a heartbeat.</p><p>“Woah, princess,” he chuckled, pushing her wand away from him slowly.</p><p>“<em>Salazar</em>, McLaggen. You scared me half to death,” Pansy replied with a frown, tucking her wand back into her wrist holster.</p><p>“Didn’t mean to, Pansy,” he said, giving her his trademark grin. Her heart thumped in her chest at seeing it, but she ignored it. What did her heart know about what it wanted? Not much, she assumed if it was Cormac bloody McLaggen that made it thump like that.</p><p>What would her mother say if she brought a <em>McLaggen</em> home? She shuddered at just the thought of her mother’s icy stare. </p><p>“Can I help you?” Pansy asked, still standing, trying to hint to him with her eyes that she wanted to leave.</p><p>“Sure,” he said. But didn’t elaborate. Pansy lifted her brows to prompt him along. His smirk deepened, and a dimple winked at her. Her heart thumped again, and gooseflesh broke out along her arms as he dragged his eyes from her face down her body. She could practically feel his gaze as it slid down her body, and she found herself standing straighter.</p><p>“Lunch tomorrow after the meeting?” Cormac offered when his clear blue eyes pinned hers once more.</p><p>“No,” Pansy replied. Her traitorous heart wanted to say yes, of course, but Pansy wasn’t about to let that happen. </p><p>“Come on, Parkinson,” Cormac said. It should have sounded like a plea, from anyone else, perhaps it would have, but from him, it sounded as if he knew she would agree. </p><p>“I’m sorry, was no not clear enough for you?” Pansy asked. When all else failed, she found falling back into the bitch her mother raised always helped.</p><p>“No, it wasn’t,” Cormac said as he stepped closer to her. </p><p>She could have backed up, but then her arse would have bumped into her desk, and he would have her pinned. Crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin instead, Pansy held her ground. Cormac grinned at her like he liked that she didn’t back away from him, and Pansy wondered if she had made the right choice after all.</p><p>“You don’t eat lunch, is that it?” Cormac asked. His tongue flitted out and wet his bottom lip as his eyes dipped from hers to focus on her own pursed lips.</p><p>“Of course I eat lunch,” Pansy sniffed. “Just not with Gryffindors.”</p><p>Cormac laughed at that, and Pansy pretended that the sound of it didn’t settle into her stomach setting off butterflies. He had a good laugh. Honestly, he had a good everything: good hair, pretty face, gorgeous eyes, muscles to die for. The issue was his name. And his house.</p><p>Stupid, wasn’t it? That his Hogwarts house should prevent Pansy from saying yes, but there it was. He was sorted into the wrong house and had the wrong last name. Some things hadn’t changed in the wizarding world, at least from where Pansy sat.</p><p>“Excuse me,” she said and stepped around him, heading for the lifts. She ignored the hurt expression on his face and sighed quietly when she realized he had followed her.</p><p>“Is that all you came here for?” Pansy asked. She had seen him leave at five with the rest of their colleagues. </p><p>“To ask you out? Yeah,” he admitted as they waited for the lift to arrive.</p><p>“Why?” The word, the question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Thankfully for her mother’s training, she managed to keep her resting bitch face. Heaven forbid if Cormac thought she might be attracted to him. That was the last thing she needed. He would never leave her alone if he found that out.</p><p>“Because you’ve been working late every night this week. I figured if I came in and asked you when you were tired, you might give in.”</p><p>His answer surprised a laugh out of her. She shook her head as the lift arrived, and he gestured for her to enter before him. She offered him the slightest of smiles and entered the lift.</p><p>“Sorry to have foiled your plan,” she replied as the lift doors began to close. They both gripped a handle above their heads as the lift shot backward.</p><p>Cormac shrugged. “It was worth a shot, at least.” </p><p>Pansy found herself biting her lip and staring straight ahead. She schooled her face as the lift descended to the Floo level. The doors opened, and once again, Cormac gestured for her to go ahead. She did so, aware that he wasn’t walking beside her, but behind her, likely staring at her arse. </p><p><em>Well, let him look</em>, a voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother said in her head. Pansy was fine letting him look, but clearly turning him down flat hadn’t discouraged him as much as possible. She walked to the first fireplace, and before she could reach for the Floo powder, Cormac had gripped her elbow.</p><p>She turned and looked up at him, lifting an imperious eyebrow at him. </p><p>“Dinner, then,” he said, his voice low and husky. He licked his lips, and the tension between them seemed to thicken. </p><p>She should say no. She knew she should say no. She even knew all of the reasons why she should say no. But she really, really didn’t want to. What could one dinner hurt? </p><p>“Alright,” she said quietly.</p><p>His face lit up in a boyish grin and Pansy couldn’t stop her own answering smile at seeing how happy that had made him. </p><p>“I’ll definitely make it worth your while,” he murmured and bent, kissing her cheek. “Pick you up at eight on Friday.”</p><p>With a flash of green, he was gone. </p><p>“Well damn,” she muttered as she stared at the empty grate of the fireplace. </p>
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